Losing out to Death
by Mazmaraz
Summary: Heero POV. After the war. 1x2x1ish. Partially AU.


Title: Losing out to Death  
  
Summary: Heero POV. After the war. 1x2x1ish. Partially AU.  
  
A/N Ok, yes it is a sad first chapter, and yes it's going to be a sad story. But there are happy moments. Have some hope.

/  
  
"Heero, is Duo there."  
  
"No."  
  
"When was the last time you saw him?"  
  
"Yesterday morning."  
  
There was silence on the other end for a couple of seconds.  
  
"Wu Fei?"  
  
"Shit."

/  
  
I tore along the sidewalk, dodging women with prams, people with dogs, families with little children all out for their Sunday stroll as I headed for the billowing mass of cloud rising up a couple of blocks away.  
  
I pulled my Preventer's jacket on and preceded to fasten the buttons of my flapping shirt one handed as I dialed Trowa's number on my mobile. It rang out twice before he picked up, mumbling sleepily into the receiver and I informed him of the situation, disconnecting the call as I pelted around the last corner.  
  
Sirens from emergency vehicles and police cars cut across the air, flashing lights and flickering fire reflected off the windows of the taller buildings. I was prepared for the blackened shell of the apartment block, the unidentified charred objects and pieces of flesh, the red fire engines situated around the blazing wreckage with firefighters and emergency personnel dressed in yellow and black directing streams of water onto the remains, crawling like ants over and under the collapsed walls.  
  
The TV reporters yammering into their microphones, fussing with their hair and pestering witnesses and survivors for first hand coverage were dotted around the site, preventer officers were attempting to keep them outside the barrier and away from anything important.  
  
Wu Fei looked at me oddly as I ducked under the red and white tape strung between the vehicles. "Did you run here?"  
  
I straightened my jacket and held my hand out for the briefing notes mentioning Sunday traffic in way of explanation. "He was supposed to be guarding Bree Summers. What happened to her?"  
  
Wu Fei flicked a couple of pages over to show the building schematics pointing out their temporary apartment on the fifth floor.  
  
"They believe the bomb was here in the bathroom." He said quietly. "Professionally made. Undetectable by a normal scanner."  
  
I flipped over to the notes on current damage statistics and casualty listing, scanning down the long list of names. "Where was Duo?"  
  
Wu Fei cleared his throat slightly, glancing in the direction of the parked ambulances, but grabbed my arm when I attempted to move in that direction, pulling me back towards the Preventer vehicles.  
  
"What is he over there for? Is he tending to Miss Summers?"  
  
Wu Fei pulled me back again, forcing me to face him and looked me directly in the eyes. "Parts of Miss Summers have been sent off for identification at the labs."  
  
I stopped trying to walk away and just looked at him. What was he trying to say....?  
  
"Duo?"  
  
"Duo wouldn't have been anywhere but where he was supposed to be." He released my arm shaking his head. "They think he was probably trying to disable the bomb, but it was set to go off 10 or 15 minutes after they were scheduled to arrive. He wouldn't have had much time and in a blast like that...."  
  
I felt the papers slide out of my hand. "Have they..."  
  
Wu Fei hastily wiped his fingers over his eyes as he dug into his trouser pocket pulling out a blackened chain with a little charred, half melted silver cross dangling from it. He lifted my hand and pressed it into my palm.  
  
"He's gone."

/  
  
The phone rings. The answering machine picks up.  
  
"Hey Heero, this is Quatre. Give us a call when you get back, and.....just give us a call."

/  
  
Four eggs sizzled in the frying pan, the yellow orange yolks perfectly rounded, the whites spread right across the pan and curling up slightly at the edges, brown and slightly crispy. I grabbed a fork out of the cutlery draw and stabbed two of them in the center, shaking the pan gently until the yolk spread suitably through the whites, then separated the eggs with the spatula and flipped the broken ones over. Dumping more bread in the toaster, I turned the dial back down to three before pulling out the griller draw to check on the tomatoes and bacon crackling and snapping and occasionally catching fire underneath the burning gas. The tomato was beginning to blacken so shuffled the slices closer to the front then pushed the grill back in halfway so the bacon would continue to cook.  
  
I headed back to my bedroom to get dressed, pulling my sleeping shirt over my head and tossing it into the laundry basket in the bathroom as I walk past. Flipping the light switch on, I moved over to the rickety old dresser and wrestled with the top drawer, rifling through it for a decent pair of socks before moving over the wardrobe to retrieve my Preventer's uniform. I dressed quickly, ran a hand through my hair, and slipped my feet into my shoes before heading back to the kitchen, grabbing my tie on the way out and shoving it in my pocket to put on later.  
  
Wondering why Duo wasn't up yet, I thumped on his door as I walked past, kicking his shoes into his room as the door creaked open and grabbing his tie off the door knob.  
  
"Duo. Up." I stood there for a second picking the knot out of the black strip of material, wondering how on earth he could manage to create this mess out of the simple twist I'd done last time, when I noticed the smell of burnt bacon wafting down the hall and decided I'd better go and save it.  
  
I switched the griller off as I pulled it out, pleased to discover the bacon wasn't completely turned to charcoal, but the tomatoes looked like they were going to be a little hard to swallow despite their mushy state. Duo probably wouldn't care. My cooking wasn't half as bad as his. He'd eat anything, poisoned or otherwise if he was hungry enough.  
  
Wondering why I hadn't heard him get up yet, I yelled down the hallway that breakfast was ready before turning to set the table and serve the food, dumping the broken eggs on Duo's plate and grabbing an apple out of the vegetable drawer for him. I poured two glasses of orange juice and sat the butter on the table before shoving a piece of bacon in my mouth and attempting to untangle Duo's tie again. I was half expecting him to saunter out and proudly state that he'd managed to lose it....again, and I chuckled as I imagined the way his face would fall when he realised I had it.  
  
Resorting to the use of a fork to pry the tie apart, I unraveled it and wrapped it round my neck, quickly tying it once again then loosening it, pulling it over my head, and shoving it in my other pocket.  
  
Glaring at Duo's untouched plate, I picked one of my eggs up, shoved it in my mouth and got up to go and find him.  
  
"Duo!" I pushed his door open all the way and flipped on the light, ready to shove him off his bed, only to find his room empty and his blankets already piled back on his bed. Wondering how I could've missed hearing him get up, I headed for the bathroom, the silence suddenly becoming oppressive as I realised I couldn't here the shower running, nor the bathroom taps. Duo wasn't singing. I couldn't  
  
hear him moving around. He wasn't...  
  
A sudden panic made me slam the bathroom door open.  
  
Empty.  
  
The shrill ring of the phone from the lounge room startled me.  
  
Letting the answering machine pick up, I wandered back to the kitchen as Duo's voice crackled over the crappy little recording device requesting whoever had called to leave a message. I smiled at the way he chuckled just before the message ended. It was such an infectious little burble of sound.  
  
The machine clicked over, whirring slightly as it got ready to record the incoming call, and as Quatre's voice cut through the room cracking slightly, I remembered.

/  
  
"Heero.......  
  
"If you're there pick up....  
  
".....Heero, it's Quatre........  
  
".....Heero......?"

/  
  
My desk was neat; it had three shelves to the left, stacked with various files, a pen holder, a stapler, an empty photo frame, two flatscreen monitors, a coffee stain, a half crushed folder paper ball and a row of tiny toy mobile suits which would usually fence off the area where my clean expanse of desk ended and Duo's....mess began.  
  
Today there was no Duo mess.  
  
I'd cleaned his desk last Monday after he left on his mission.  
  
It should've been messy again by now.  
  
He should've been here to make it messy.  
  
He should've been here to get annoyed at me because he couldn't find anything now that his desk was tidy.  
  
He should've told me twice this morning what a rotten, silent, perfect....bloody bastard I was because I'd deigned to attempt to reform him.  
  
He should've ordered me to early lunch, or attempted to con me into grabbing him a snack.  
  
He should've been standing there, at his desk, acting like a sulky child while I tightened his tie around his neck and fixed his collar because I still had it in my pocket from earlier. He should've run his fingers through my hair then given it a good yank in retaliation for being a mothering arsehole.  
  
That's how this morning should've been.  
  
My clothes rustle slightly as I shift in my office chair to look out the window at the park across the road. There's a couple of kids playing a rough game of football, a gardener tending to the ratty flowerbeds and two old women in tracksuits walking their dogs.  
  
They're in purple today.  
  
I turn to Duo's desk to see if he's noticed them, then realise my mistake.  
  
For a while I stare into the space he should've been occupying before I notice that there's a picture of a tree hanging on the wall. I wonder how on earth I could've missed it as I look back out the window at the old ladies weaving through the flowerbeds and chatting animatedly whilst keeping their tiny little fluffy dogs in check.  
  
He said we were going to do that; grow old enough so that the only exercise we could manage was to be dragged around by our twin rottweiler's of a morning. He said we were going to sit around listening to old music when we were forty and criticize 'today's' artists and they're lack of talent.  
  
He said we were going to the beach next year. There was a concert we were seeing in six months. We were crashing at Wu Fei's in a fortnight.  
  
He said he'd give me my photo of him back next week.  
  
I looked back at the empty frame sitting on my desk and an unusual feeling began welling up in my stomach. It flooded past my chest and around my throat, pounding in my ears and tugging sharply at my nose. An unfamiliar prickling sensation assaulted my eyes and I laid my face down on the desk, curling my arm around my head and digging my fingers into my palm.  
  
How could you Duo? Leave me here all alone. Don't you know it's not fair?  
  
You're supposed to be Shinigami; Death itself.  
  
How can you die?  
  
I heard the office door creak open slowly and someone padded softly into the room. They walked around to Duo's desk and I heard the rattle of his office chair being rolled around the room until it stopped next to mine.  
  
I looked up past my shirt sleeve at Quatre as he uncharacteristically plonked himself down, a worried frown wrinkling his forehead. He rolled the chair closer and passed me a clean handkerchief as I sat up.  
  
It took me a second to realise what it was for.  
  
The desk was wet and my face was cold and I had the sudden overwhelming urge to just stop breathing completely. For a moment it felt as if I had, but then fingers were gently kneading the area between my shoulder blades and I had to look up again to convince myself that it really wasn't a blurry form of Duo sitting there beside me.  
  
It was short blonde hair and blue eyes. Blue, not purple. Not Duo.  
  
Duo was gone. Blasted into nonexistence. Shattered and separated. Blood on the wind.  
  
It made me want to collapse and lay on the floor, stare at the ceiling and never get up again.  
  
How could he dissolve my defenses so effortlessly and cause this kind of pain? How could anything feel like this? I didn't even understand what it was. All I wanted was for him to come waltzing back through that door. I didn't care if he saw me like this.  
  
I wanted him back. I wanted him here. I wanted him mocking me and nervously patting me on the back like he did to Hilde when she suddenly burst into tears.  
  
He wasn't supposed to be gone!  
  
Brushing furiously at the wet patch on the desk, I lashed out at the little mobile suit regiment sending them clattering across the desk.  
  
I leant forward again, concentrating on trying not to choke as my body convulsed, a sob tearing from my throat.  
  
I tried to regain control but found....I couldn't. The more I tried, the worse it got. My breath was coming in huge shuddering gasps if it came at all.  
  
The hand on my shoulder tugged me closer and I reached out blindly, gripping at the shirt and hiding my face against my own arm, trying to stop my body from shaking.  
  
"Quatre." I'm not even sure why I wanted to say anything. Maybe I was confirming it was only him. Maybe I thought he could take it all away.  
  
"Yes Heero." He whispered.  
  
Maybe I wanted to know why. But the only words I managed to get out as I sat back in my chair and leant my elbow on the armrest, hiding my face behind my hand were "It hurts."  
  
Then I looked up to see Quatre's blue eyes swimming as he rubbed a hand over his chest, massaging the area over his sternum. He sniffed and wiped his eyes with his other hand, jiggling his leg up and down nervously and trying to form a smile.  
  
"I know Heero. I know." I watched his face crumple for a second, then he composed his features once again taking a deep breath as he groped into his pocket looking for his buzzing cell phone.  
  
Checking the caller ID, he stood up and placed a hand on my shoulder. He mumbled an apology and stepped out the door.  
  
"Come talk when you're ready."  
  
The door clicked shut behind him.

/  
  
A/N Ok, so some people are going to slaughter me but I don't believe in giving away the story in the summary. Painful. Yes. And some people probably ran away as soon as they realised what happened, but the stories not over yet.  
See you next chapter.


End file.
